


The Comfort of Warmth

by giselleslash



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giselleslash/pseuds/giselleslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has taken ill and Arthur can’t stay away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Comfort of Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a b-day fic for the lovely Kajmere.

“Is there any change, Gaius?”

“A bit, Sire. He appears less feverish this afternoon.”

Arthur started walking toward Merlin’s room, determined to see him today as he’d been put off by Gaius for three days.

“Sire, it’s likely he’s still contagious. I wouldn’t recommend- .”

“It’s quite all right, Gaius.” Arthur quietly waved him off and opened the door to Merlin’s room.

Merlin was lying flat on his back, flushed with sickness and labored breathing. He appeared to be sleeping and feeling at a loss as to what to do or why he needed to be there at all, Arthur hovered near the door, hands hanging limply at his sides.

The room was stifling and had that strange, sweet smell that comes with a sickroom; a stuffy staleness laced with a faint sweetness that made one feel off-kilter and heavy. Weary.

Arthur turned his head and looked out Merlin’s window, the dust motes caught floating in the faint sunshine coming through it fogged his vision and made him blink; his eyes feeling itchy and dry at the sight.

He stood by the door, awkward, not quite sure if he should stay or go; knowing he ought to let Merlin sleep but wanting still to see his opened eyes and to hear his voice. It didn’t even matter to him whether or not the voice would speak complaints or foolishness, he simply wanted it to be _heard_.

Merlin moved a bit, shuffled, and seemed to be agitated. His breathing seemed so painful and Arthur remembered what it was like to have that same gasping, coughing, wheezing sickness when he was younger. All he had wanted was for it to be pressed out of his lungs, freed from his chest so he could breathe properly once more.

He moved away from the door to Merlin’s bedside and looked down at him. He looked so uncomfortable, alone, and Arthur remembered in his sickness wanting nothing more than comfort and having none. It was unbearably lonely to suffer in sickness alone.

Before he could think about what he was doing he laid himself down beside Merlin. He pressed himself against Merlin’s side and laid his hand on the center of Merlin’s chest. Merlin shifted, turned his head toward Arthur.

“Arthur?”

Merlin’s voice was scratchy, raw, and it sounded painful to Arthur’s ears.

“Yes, it’s me.” He pressed his fingers against the bare skin revealed by the open neck of Merlin’s sleep shirt.

“Arthur,” Merlin said again.

Arthur’s face pressed close to Merlin’s neck, his lips so close to his skin that they nearly brushed against it with every word he spoke.

“I’m here,” he whispered.

Arthur felt Merlin’s fingers touch his wrist and he pressed his hand more firmly against Merlin’s chest.

“Are you here to find out where I am with your bath water?”

Arthur could hear the amusement in Merlin’s voice and smiled in relief himself, surely he wasn’t as sick as he had been if he was able to make Arthur’s life a misery. As usual.

“Yes. I am. I’m wondering where my supper is as well.”

Merlin’s chuckle turned into a cough and Arthur pressed closer, slipped his hand beneath Merlin’s shirt and rubbed slow circles over his chest.

“You’re even terrible at being sick, just as I knew you would be.” Arthur lightly teased.

“The worst ever, right?”

Merlin’s voice was so close it rumbled through Arthur and he felt flushed with warmth. He only nodded.

“My mother always told me stories when I was ill,” Merlin said. “Tell me one now.”

Arthur looked up at Merlin, his eyes were close, fever bright but genuine as well, and they stopped the complaint on the tip of Arthur’s tongue about which one of them gave the orders.

“I don’t know any stories. Besides, you’re the nonsensical one, you ought to be telling them.”

“I know you’re not a complete half-wit, make something up.”

“No one ever told me stories, I don’t know how.”

Merlin looked at him, slid his fingers up Arthur’s forearm and then back down to his wrist where he wrapped them around him and held on. Arthur didn’t like the look; there was pity in it but more than that, a painful ache, like it hurt Merlin to know that about him. It unsettled Arthur in ways he didn’t want to think about.

“You can do it.” Merlin’s voice was soft, calm. “I’ll get you started; once there was a knight named Sir Merlin -.”

Arthur laughed, deep and happy.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the village idiot named Merlin?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, the village idiot was named Arthur.”

“Of course.” Arthur smiled at Merlin and he turned into him, tucking himself closer to Arthur. “Are you cold?” Arthur asked.

Merlin didn’t answer immediately but let go of Arthur’s wrist to press his palm against his upper arm. He slowly moved it from Arthur’s arm, to his shoulder, and down to his chest.

“This is my favorite shirt; it’s soft and worn and I can feel the heat of you through it when I touch you.” Merlin’s voice was quiet, musing, and Arthur wasn’t sure if Merlin was actually aware of what he was saying. “Hard and soft -.” Merlin’s voice trailed off and he sighed and dropped his hand back down to Arthur’s wrist.

Arthur pressed his nose against the side of Merlin’s head and started speaking a story right into Merlin’s ear.

“Once there was a knight named Sir Merlin. Unfortunately Sir Merlin was prone to falling off his horse and making a general muck of things wherever he went. His clumsiness was known throughout the kingdom.”

“You’re a dreadful storyteller.”

“Hush up, Merlin, you’re ruining the story.”

“What little of it there is.”

“Hush.” Arthur smiled and continued on. “Fortunately, however, he had a friend by the name of Sir Arthur who was brave and noble and the most handsome man in all of the land.”

“Oh, now this is much better. Clearly this is make believe at its finest.”

Arthur ignored Merlin’s teasing and kept talking. “Sir Arthur got Sir Merlin out of all kinds of fearsome, dangerous situations, that obviously Sir Merlin’s idiocy got them into in the first place.”

“I think you’ve got the way of it twisted about, the names reversed?”

“Hardly,” Arthur said. “Sir Merlin was a trial to the poor, beleaguered Sir Arthur but seeing as how he was so stout of heart and was very, very patient he was able to bear being Sir Merlin’s friend with an enviable aplomb.”

“This is back to being a terrible story, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled, felt his lips brush against the soft skin just below Merlin’s ear, and Merlin turned into him, laid his head against Arthur’s forehead.

“But although he was a trial and tribulation every day of his life,” Arthur continued, “Sir Merlin was the truest and most loyal of friends with a kind heart as big as his ears.”

“Arthur.”

“As big as his ears,” Arthur repeated. “And Sir Arthur counted himself the luckiest of men to call Sir Merlin friend.” Arthur stopped and looked at Merlin as he smiled to himself. He couldn’t help but add, “Even if he was without most of his wits. The end.”

Merlin sighed. “I guess that will have to do.”

Arthur laughed at Merlin’s exasperated voice and started rubbing slow, careful circles against his chest once again in an effort to placate him.

Merlin’s breathing soon evened out and Arthur thought he had fallen back asleep so he whispered, “Be well, Merlin,” into his ear.

“Next time,” Merlin mumbled, sleepy and quiet, “when you’re sick I’ll tell you a story.”

The promise tightened something inside Arthur’s chest and he found himself almost hoping to be taken ill simply to collect on the promise.

All he could manage was a hum of agreement as he closed his eyes along with Merlin and settled into the comfort of him.

 

~End


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